


Dissolve Me

by originofsymmetryy



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, and bellamy looking like Jon Snow, i just needed a winter fic okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-22
Updated: 2014-11-22
Packaged: 2018-02-26 13:58:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2654567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/originofsymmetryy/pseuds/originofsymmetryy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>bellamy and clarke and their second new year on the ground</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dissolve Me

It’s New Year by their calculations.

Monty and Jasper have brewed the best batch of moonshine yet and Raven and Wick have managed to rig up fireworks with what meagre supplies they’ve got. They’ve had to make the fireworks as non-threatening as possible so as not to alarm the Grounders (they already have an uneasy alliance, no need to startle them).

It’s freezing cold - snow has been falling for a few days now. Clarke cried when she saw it. It’s not like she imagined; snow _really is_ fucking cold. But it gives the air a noticeable fresh and crisp feeling, and the texture of the powder amazes Clarke.

Everyone around camp is in a good mood for once. Kids have been having snowball fights and one kid, Juan, even made a toboggan. Clarke can’t help but smile to herself as she takes in the mood. Abby smiles tentatively at her from where she stands, arm in arm with Kane, as kids play with sparklers. It’s still strained between them, but Clarke remembers what her dad (or really her jobi nut induced hallucination) told her. _Forgiveness isn’t about what people deserve._

As if on cue, Bellamy Blake would be the one to saunter up to her while she’s thinking this. If forgiveness would apply to anyone, it would be him. He looks like a massive bear with his wolf hide cape, his hair grown out past his ears and he’s even got a hint of a beard growing. _How does he still look this good?_ Clarke thinks with slight despair.

He sits down next to her on the log and gives her a playful nudge with his arm. “Brooding out here all alone, Princess?” He smirks. It’s not an antagonistic gesture anymore -they enjoy the banter now.

She smiles and turns her face toward him. “Can’t a girl enjoy a drink alone?” the moonshine is warm in her stomach and the heat from the bonfire is making her flush despite the freezing temperatures.

“If you want me to leave just say so.” He says in a mock wounded tone, standing up like he’s making to leave.

“Haha, it’s okay Bell.” She smiles at him. “Just sitting here pondering that we’ve been here for over a year.”

“Yeah,” he says, suddenly serious. “Hard to believe, huh.” He takes another swig of moonshine, crouching slightly forward as a particularly cool gust of wind blows over him. Clarke becomes immediately more grateful that she let him make a cape for herself - its white fox fur and it’s beautiful, and she’s still in disbelief that he managed to make it. He had chased her around trying to get the measurements right on her body, and sat there stitching in his tent as they had “meetings”. The image of old Grandma Bellamy Blake sitting around knitting often came to mind and Clarke would have to stifle her giggles as she watched him. Once she had made the mistake of asking if he knew how to sew. “My mom was a seamstress, Clarke. I know what I’m doing.” He said grumpily, rolling his eyes at her, continuing to stitch. Clarke had hastily left him to it.

It had been nice though, when he’d finished it and brought it to her tent making her try it on. She had let him; he’d been so damn proud she couldn’t say no. Bellamy had stood behind her and helped her shrug into it, his hands briefly moving her hair out of the collar.

“Wow, Bellamy,” she’d said softly. “This is gorgeous.” And it was. The cape was warm and fit perfectly, it looked like it’d come from a 21st century fashion magazine. Her face lit up in an involuntary smile and she looked at him to see it mirrored. “Thankyou.”

“No problems,” he said shyly, not looking at her.

And now here they were, sitting by the fire arm to arm, leg to leg. Clarke’s pulse was thumping in her ears and she felt herself getting breathless. It’d been happening a lot lately, okay?

With a squeal of delight, the fireworks go off. Clarke looks around to see Wick hugging Raven around the waist with her head on his shoulder. She gives her a knowing look and a wink.

She stares up at the sky in amazement as fireworks explode above them. And suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she sees Bellamy looking at her. Slowly, she turns to face him. Clarke doesn’t break eye contact, feels like she can barely breathe by the way Bellamy is looking at her. He’s looking at her like a man that’s seen the sun for the first time, and after what feels like 0.5 seconds and a million years have passed between them, he’s slowly leaning in to her. His eyes are asking, _is this okay?_ And the only way Clarke can answer is by mimicking his movements. When their lips touch, Clarke’s eyes close. It’s soft and chaste, not at all what she’d imagined their first kiss being like (she’s always thought it would be halfway through an argument and a lot more biting and some clothes being ripped off). But this is nice, even better in a way. Because it’s a kiss that simultaneously says “I care about you”, “I want you” and “I need you”.

He pulls away after a few seconds, a soft grin on his face. “Happy New Year, Princess.”


End file.
